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Chloe with huge iron-rimined spectacles was slowly spelling out a 
chapter in the Bible. P* 20. 



BLIND RUTH 

• « 

OR 


HOW MAY I HO GOOD? 

ILLUSTRATING 

THE SECOND PETITION OP THE LORD’S PRAYER, 

“ THY KINGDOM COME.” 



PHILADELPHIA: 
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 
NO. 821 CHESTNUT STREET. 

1 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by 
JAMES DUNLAP, Treas., 

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Eastern District 
of Pennsylvania. 


STEREOTYPED BY 


JESPER HARDING & SON, 

NO. 57 SOUTH THIRD STREET, PHILADELPHIA. 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 


CHAPTER I. 

In a deep recess made by the large 
bay window of a beautiful mansion in the 
country, two persons were seated, appa- 
rently absorbed by the lovely prospect 
that was spread out before them. 

Ellen Dale was the niece of Mrs. May, 
and was to be her companion for a few 
weeks, during the temporary absence of 
the head of the household, who, his pres- 
ence becoming necessary in a business 

( 3 ) 


4 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


transaction, had been called rather sud- 
denly from his pleasant home. 

“You are very silent this evening, 
Ellie,” said Mrs. May, as she turned to- 
ward her young companion. “If I did 
not think you were like myself quietly 
enjoying the beauties of this twilight 
hour, I should say you were homesick. 
But to me there is a pensive sadness in 
this closing hour of day, which subdues 
the world-feeling within us, leads us to 
calm and holy thoughts, and brings us 
more closely into communion with the 
God and Father of our spirits. See those 
silver-lined clouds, how softly they float 
along like light falls of snow upon the 
fading blue of the skies ; whilst the whole 
western horizon is lit up with masses of 
every shape and hue, throwing their 
tinges of glory on the hills and distant 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 5 

woodlands, until they are all aglow with 
light and beauty.” 

“ It is lovely,” said Ellen, springing 
up from her recumbent attitude, and 
looking out for a few moments to gather 
in the particulars of her companion’s de- 
scription ; “but in truth my thoughts were 
far enough away from it just now, although 
I am not in the least homesick. But I 
began to think a while ago how useless a 
creature I am in the world; and then 
dear cousin Gracie came into my mind, 
and I wished that like her I could be a 
missionary, and instruct the benighted 
heathen.” 

“ I wish so too, Ellie,” said Mrs. May; 
“ at least I would like to see you have a 
true missionary spirit; yet I should be 
very sorry if the opportunity were offered 
to you now of becoming a foreign mis- 
1 * 


6 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


sionary, even to follow in the bright track 
made by the gentle footsteps of your 
cousin Grace.” 

“ I am surprised to hear you say so, 
aunt May ; I always thought you were 
devoted to the missionary cause.” 

“And so I certainly am, dear Ellie. 
None can honour and admire more than I 
the self-denying spirit of the men, who, 
not counting their lives dear unto them- 
selves, have gone forth to preach the un- 
searchable riches of Christ to the heathen. 
And still more do I appreciate those ad- 
mirable women, who, sacrificing their 
home affections on the altar of duty, have 
steadily set their faces thither; though 
the bones of their devoted sister-band 
whiten the missionary field from the 
burning climes of India, to the sunny 
streams that roll over ‘Afric’s golden 


HOW MAT I DO GOOD? 7 

sands.’ To me it is deeply affecting to 
look over the vast space which covers the 
lands of the nations that sit in the region 
of the shadow of death, and behold here 
and there those feeble lights of the gospel 
ministry, shining, in the deep gloom 
which surrounds them, ‘like pearls upon 
an Ethiop’s brow.’ Yet, my dear Ellie, I 
told you but the truth when I said, I 
would not wish to see you now become a 
foreign missionary.” 

“But you will give me your reasons, 
dear aunt. You have generally seemed 
pleased when I have even expressed a 
desire to do some good, and I have so 
often had cousin Grace held up to me for 
a model, that I thought I could not be 
wrong in trying to imitate her example.” 

“ I will have to be very frank with you 
then, my dear Ellie. I said that I would 


8 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


be pleased to find that you have a mis- 
sionary spirit, for without that a mission- 
ary life would be an unhappy one, and it 
does not insure it to those who enter on it 
from improper motives. Now you, my 
dear niece, are young and impulsive. 
You have but lately found the answer to 
that important question — “ What shall I 
do to be saved ?” and with the early love 
of a young convert, you are seeking to do 
some great thing for Christ. If I am not 
mistaken, the romance of a sweet cottage 
on a sunny shore, the waving of lofty 
palm-trees, and the aromatic breath of 
the land of spices, have charms for your 
imagination, which the every day realities 
of a missionary’s toilsome life would soon 
dissipate. By a true missionary spirit, 
then, I mean such a love for the souls of 
the lost ones around us, as will lead us to 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 9 

do all in our power for their spiritual 
good. We are not all called to go far 
away to the heathen, although we can in 
many ways administer to the comfort of 
those who do; but there are benighted 
objects all around us who need our assist- 
ance, and while we are aiding these we 
are in fact helping on the great work of 
the Lord ; and uniting in that universal 
spread of the gospel which we pray for 
when we utter the petition, “ Thy king- 
dom come.” 

“Well then, aunt May, how shall I do 
good ? You say you would be glad to 
have me show a missionary spirit. Please 
to tell me then some of the objects which 
call for it.” 

“ In the first place, my dear Elbe, you 
seem to me to be wanting in that tender 
compassion for the lowly and destitute, 


10 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


which carries such a charm with it, and 
inclines them so much more gratefully to 
the efforts made for their spiritual good. 
I should hardly have thought of you as 
being willing to become a missionary to a 
vile and degraded race, after seeing your 
ungracious behaviour in the stage yester- 
day to the poor but neatly clad passengers 
who claimed the benefit of the same 
public conveyance.” 

“Well, but aunt May, you surprised 
me quite as much; for you spent half 
your time in taking notice of that com- 
mon-looking woman’s baby, who sat on 
the seat opposite. It was so fretful, and 
so ill dressed that I could not bear to look 
at it; and yet a little further down there 
was the sweetest little creature I ever 
saw, with such a beautiful pink cashmere 
sack on, and a white plumed hat. But 
I don’t think you even noticed it.” • 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 11 

“Yes I did,” said Mrs. May, smiling; 
“but your little beauty had so many ad- 
mirers, that I thought I would turn my 
attention to the poor neglected baby, 
and its sad, weary-looking young mother. 
I can assure you that I was quite repaid 
by the smiles of the child, and the grate- 
ful countenance of the poor woman; 
while you, I think, might have been 
pleased to be freed from the annoyance 
of its constant fretting.” 

“So I would have been,” returned 
Ellen, “if I had not been quite as much 
vexed by your entering into conversation 
with that low-looking girl at your side, 
who carried a bundle and a band-box. 
Why, aunt May, I don’t think she was 
anything but a servant girl.” 

“ So she was indeed, Ellie,” said her 
aunt quietly; “but had you heard as I 


12 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


did her simple tale of sorrow, and seen 
the tears coursing down her really honest 
face, you would have felt pity and not 
contempt for the poor homeless stranger. 
Not being in want of a domestic myself, 
I gave her a few lines to a friend of 
mine, who I know needs one very much ; 
and thus in a short ride I had the satis- 
faction of feeling that I had made more 
than one heart glad. How many can 
you reckon up, Ellie ?” 

“ Not one,” said her niece, frankly ; 
“ not even my own, aunt May ; for I 
could not help thinking I looked hatefully 
proud ; and was all the time imagining 
the contrast between my ill humoured 
countenance, and the sweet benevolence 
of yours.” 

“ You might draw a higher comparison, 
my child. Christ, our example, when 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 13 

he came on earth, had his birth place in a 
stable, and his habitation among the poor 
and lowly of the earth. He has also 
chosen many of these to be rich in faith 
and heirs of the kingdom of glory ; and 
if we are his true followers, we must 
accept the legacy he left us of the de- 
spised ones of the earth, whensoever we 
will to do them good. Every act of 
charity, even the look or word of kind- 
ness, becomes the cup of cold water, 
which, if bestowed on the least of his 
disciples, is claimed by the Saviour as 
being done unto him. But if you want 
to take pattern from any lower standard, 
I will instance one, who, for improvement 
of the most limited means, excels many 
others in the luxury of doing good. If 
there is a pure missionary spirit in exis- 
tence, it has blind Ruth for its living 

example.” 

2 


14 


BLIND RUTH OR 


“ Not blind !” exclaimed Ellen. “ Why 
I always thought blind people were help- 
less, and dependent for happiness on 
others. I am sure I should be. But has 
she no other name to call her by ?” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. May, “ but she is 
more frequently spoken of by the one 
that marks her peculiar affliction, as it 
distinguishes her from others who bear 
that sweet but sorrowful name. Her 
family designation is Ellison. You have 
been so long absent among your northern 
friends, my dear Ellie, that I suppose 
you have forgotten many of the scenes 
with which you were once familiar. But 
when you were a very little girl, and 
spending your holidays here, you used to 
love to accompany me in my visits to 
Grandmother Ellison’s cottage.” 

“ Oh, yes ; and 1 have often thought 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 


15 


of those nice Saturday afternoon walks. 
She lived in a romantic little spot, just 
between the old mill and the school-house, 
and kept bees and flowers. I remember 
yet the lessons upon thrift you used to 
teach me from the little busy bodies I 
was so curious about, nor have I forgotten 
what was, I suppose, much more to my 
taste then, the delicious bread and honey 
with which the old lady used to sweeten 
your exhortations. But I am sorry she 
has become blind. She must be very 
helpless in her old age.” 

“ She is not blind,” said Mrs. May, “ not 
more so at least than most aged people; 
and yet she is dependent for much of her 
happiness, strange as it may appear to 
you, upon one who is bereft of the bless- 
ing of sight, lluth is quite young, 
orphaned, except by the one tie of her 


16 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


venerable grandmother. Her father, 
Ralph Ellison, found a sailor’s grave in 
the bosom of the stormy ocean ; and his 
heart-broken wife, after leaving the infant 
Ruth to the kind care of her husband’s 
mother, followed him to the world of 
spirits. Many blamed the old lady for 
taking such a helpless child to be, as they 
supposed, a burden to her ; for, as if to 
mark the deep affliction of the mother, 
the little babe, who was destined never to 
see its father’s face, was born entirely 
blind. But sweet Ruth has never been 
a burden. On the contrary, she is the 
light and life of her grandmother’s dwell- 
ing. She is an ardent and sincere young 
Christian, and I would gladly see you 
make her acquaintance, and learn from 
her how to do good as you have opportu- 
nity. As to-morrow is the last day of 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 17 

the week, and you retain such pleasant 
recollections of Saturday afternoon walks, 
I think I will ask you to accompany me 
to the old memory -place, and see whether 
it has lost any of its interest.” 

“I shall be delighted,” said Ellen, “but 
where are you going now, dear aunt?” she 
added, as she saw Mrs. May preparing to 
leave their pleasant nook. “ This beau- 
tiful moonlight throwing the shadows of 
the stirring leaves upon the floor, is just 
what you love, I know, for I have often 
heard you say so.” 

“ I must make my pleasures yield to 
duty just now,- my dear. It has been 
my custom for some time past to devote 
an hour or two in the evening to the im- 
provement of those who are busy in my 
employ through the day. Last night it 
was neglected, because I was so soon to 


18 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


part with your uncle ; but I must not 
allow my indolence to interfere with it 
a second time.” 

“ Dear auntie, then you will leave this 
cool nice parlour, and go out to be heated 
to death in that stifling kitchen !” 

“Not heated to death, Ellie; do not 
use such startling expressions. And 
surely the sacrifice is not greater than 
you would be called to make if you were 
a missionary in the burning climes of the 
torrid zone. Butyou can remain here if 
you choose, and dream out the pictures 
which your imagination has sketched so 
beautifully.” 

“ No, dear aunt May, I am reproved 
already. I will go with you, and assist 
you, if I can, in doing good to others. Ah ! 
I fear I have but little of a missionary 
spirit.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 19 

Good old Chloe, who presided over the 
culinary department in Mrs. May’s house- 
hold, would have little relished the epithet 
“stifling” bestowed upon her tidy kitchen. 
The cooking range had been allowed to 
cool down, until its temperature very 
slightly affected the air of the room, and 
two large open windows freely admitted 
the soft breath of evening and the silvery 
light of the moon. A neat dresser with 
shining rows of earthenware rather added 
a charm to the picture, because it was 
one of the characteristics of the place; 
and the home-made list carpet that cov- 
ered the floor gave an appearance of com- 
fort to the whole. 

The little party of domestics consisting 
of the old woman and a younger one, be- 
sides a boy of fifteen, all of African des- 
cent, were already waiting for the usual 


20 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


visit of their kind teacher. Mrs. May, 
with her accustomed thoughtfulness, had 
provided a cheap shaded lamp for the 
convenience of her evening scholars, and 
beneath its subdued and mellow light 
their employments proceeded quite plea- 
santly. 

But Ellen Dale could not help thinking 
that there was some considerable self- 
denial to be practised even under the 
nice arrangements by which she was sur- 
rounded ; and she thought that her gentle 
aunt May, as she bent over old Chloe, 
who, with huge iron-rimmed spectacles 
pressing back the frill of her snow white 
cap, was slowly spelling out a chapter in 
the Bible, was as truly a missionary as 
those who leave home and friends to 
labour among the heathen. She re- 
mained so long considering the subject, 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 21 

that she had almost forgotten the part 
she had promised to take in the instruc- 
tions of the evening, until an admonitory- 
look from her aunt reminded her. With 
great alacrity she then began to set 
copies for Thomas, the coloured boy, who 
was already able to read with consider- 
able fluency, and having initiated him 
into the mysteries of pot hooks and 
hangers, she proceeded to assist the 
younger female with her lesson. 

Susan was delighted to be taught by 
the strange lady, and could not keep 
from smiling even while she -was reading ; 
but she made so many ludicrous mis- 
takes that Ellen could scarcely retain her 
gravity, and she had to look at her 
aunt’s placid countenance many times 
before she could entirely settle her own. 

She did succeed however, and had 


22 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


begun to take quite an interest in her 
sable scholars before it was time to 
close. When the hour of retiring arrived, 
Mrs. May said she thought it right to 
attend to their usual devotional exercises, 
although the head of the household was 
absent; and signified her willingness to 
lead those services which it was their 
privilege at that season to engage in. 
Her little circle having arranged their 
books and slates, and seated themselves 
in attitudes of attention, she commenced 
reading to them the twenty-fifth chapter 
of Matthew, as an appropriate close to 
the conversation she had that evening 
held with her young companion, Ellen 
Hale. She also added such simple ex- 
planations as she thought necessary for the 
instruction of her auditors, who were as 
yet but little advanced in the know- 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 23 

ledge of divine- things. When she had 
finished the two interesting parables, 
which are calculated so deeply to probe 
the hearts of those who profess godliness, 
and had entered upon that description 
of the time “when the Son of man shall 
come in his glory,” her voice took a 
richer tone, and she finished the sublime 
passage with a feeling of solemnity which 
was shared by her attentive listeners. 
Then, kneeling down, she besought Him, 
“who hath made of one blood all the 
nations of the earth,” to enable each one 
so to live to his glory, that having secured 
for themselves the promise of the pur- 
chased inheritance, they might work for 
his blessed cause, until the kingdom of 
darkness should be destroyed, and the 
kingdom of glory extended over all the 
earth. 


24 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


I 


CHAPTER IT. 

“ I have received one missionary lesson,” 
said Ellen Dale, as she entered her aunt’s 
breakfast parlour the next morning, “ and 
I suppose I must wait until afternoon 
before I can look for a second. I am not 
sure whether it is the desire to become 
acquainted with this blind Ruth of whom 
you talk so much, or that I am longing 
for a renewal of old associations in one of 
my favourite walks, but I certainly feel 
very impatient for our visit. What do 
you intend doing with yourself, aunt 
May, all this long morning ?” 

“It will not be long to me, for I shall 
be busy,” said Mrs. May, glancing smi- 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 25 

lingly toward a little group of children, 
who were examining together a large 
book of prints. “ Mary, and Emma, and 
little Sophy will take care that the time 
shall not pass by unoccupied, and even 
baby Harry claims a great deal of atten- 
tion.” 

“ But Harry must not come into school 
any more if he disturbs us, must he, 
mamma?” said Mary, a fine, intelligent- 
looking girl of ten, “ the last time he was 
there I could not understand my sums ; 
and you said he made your head ache 
too, mamma.” 

“Yes, but Harry promised not to do 
so again, sister,” said Emma, who seemed 
much more gentle than the elder, “ and 
when mamma told him she was not well, 
he put up his little cart, and was so good 

and quiet.” 

3 


26 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


“You are right to plead for your little 
brother, Emmy,” said her cousin Ellen, 
smoothing hack the soft hair from the 
forehead of the child, and stooping to kiss 
her fair cheek; “but here comes Harry 
to speak for himself — the bright, dear 
little fellow!” she added, as the smiling 
boy came bounding in, full of life and 
gladness, followed by his nurse, a neat, 
good-tempered- looking young woman, 
who seemed to have some difficulty in 
restraining his wild gambols. 

But little Harry had reached the goal 
of his ambition, and, clambering on the lap 
of his mother, pressed many kisses from 
his rosy lips on her gentle brow. Sweet 
maternal love ! how pure a fountain stirred 
beneath those dimpled fingers, and that 
little fluttering heart ! 

“ Harry can plead his own cause,” said 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 27 

Mrs. May, when she had placed him in 
his high chair at the table, and they had 
commenced their morning repast; “but I 
will take care that you shall not be an- 
noyed again, Mary. He is a very young 
scholar to be sure ; but yet I wish him to 
become used by degrees to the restraint 
of school discipline, and he will learn to 
be quiet and orderly in imitation of the 
rest.” 

“ Then we must all be good and quiet 
too, I suppose, mamma,” said little Sophy ; 
“for if he sees us laughing at any of his 
tricks, he will try to keep us in fun all 
the time.” 

“ That is a very wise remark of my 
little Sophy’s. If we wish to have others 
be good, we must try not to lead them 
astray. And as you are next in age to 
Harry, you must strive, my love, to be a 
little model for his imitation.” 


28 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


The two elder children were quite 
amused with the idea of merry, mirth- 
loving little Sophy being set up as an ex- 
ample of order to Harry; but the child 
herself seemed as if she was determined 
to merit the title, and continued to take 
her breakfast with such a forced gravity 
of countenance as entirely to upset that 
of the rest. 

“And now, my dear children,” said 
Mrs. May, when they were about to leave 
the room, “ I shall expect to see you in 
your places with lessons prepared, when 
I ring my little bell an hour hence. This 
morning you remember is allotted to 
preparation for the Sabbath-school exer- 
cises of to-morrow, and I would like you 
to have your verses and questions quite 
perfect, so that 1 may spend a greater 
portion of the time in explaining them to 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 29 

you. As you are required to use dili- 
gence in your other studies through the 
week, I hope you will not give me cause 
to complain of you in these more impor- 
tant branches of that heavenly knowledge 
which is to make you wise unto eternal 
life.” 

“But, dear aunt May,” said Ellen, 
after the children had left them, “do you 
not become tired of this constant succes- 
sion of duties? I have often thought I 
should like to teach for a little while ; but 
I think I should weary of it presently.” 

“ I were more than mortal if I did not, 
Ellie. Sometimes I must confess I feel 
quite unfitted for my labours. Often I 
have the headache, as Mary says, and 
the playful mirth of my little noisy boy 
quivers through every nerve. At times 
too I seem as if I would like my ease 
3 * 


30 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


best, or I have other occupations which I 
would choose, hut I am thankful that I 
have been enabled to go on through all 
these difficulties ; and if the waywardness 
or dulness of my young scholars has 
sometimes discouraged me, yet I must 
confess the pleasures overbalance the 
pains.” 

“And now for the pleasures,” said 
Ellen. “I must confess you have summed 
up such a formidable amount on the other 
side, that I shall expect some very 
weighty considerations on this.” 

“And so there are, my dear niece. 
In the first place, there is that peace of 
conscience which results from a know- 
ledge that we are pursuing the strait 
path of duty — that we are striving to 
overcome the corrupt propensities of the 
flesh and spirit. In the next is the plea- 


HOW MAT I DO GOOD? 31 

sure of having my children around me, 
growing in knowledge and usefulness by 
the efforts which God enables me to make, 
and gives me strength to perform. That 
I may keep them with me, watch over 
their habits and dispositions, and check 
the native evil in its very bud, are cer- 
tainly inducements for me to continue my 
system of home education. I might men- 
tion the salutary effect upon my own 
temper and conduct, by the necessity that 
is laid upon me of exercising a habit of 
patience and forbearance ; but I will sum 
up by a still higher motive for persever- 
ance in this course of daily duty — the 
looking forward to that good fruit spring- 
ing up from these feeble efforts, which 
shall by God’s blessing result in the eter- 
nal welfare of the dear ones he has given 


me. 


32 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


“ Aunt May,” said Ellen, after a few 
moments’ pause, “ do you not think I 
should sooner have become a true Chris- 
tian, if I had known what it was to have 
the teachings of a good, pious mother ?” 

“We cannot tell that, Ellie, since ‘it is 
not by might, nor by power, but by my 
Spirit, saith the Lord.’ Many pious 
parents have to mourn over the wayward- 
ness of their offspring after all their ef- 
forts for their conversion, and many have 
gone down to their graves sorrowing over 
wicked and rebellious children. But in 
general God does please to bless their 
labours, and we often see their fruit in 
after years, although it seemed for a time 
entirely to fail. But if you were an 
orphan, dear Ellie, you had many other 
kind friends who were solicitous for the 
welfare of your soul.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 33 

“ Yes,” said Ellen, thoughtfully ; “ and 
you, dear aunt May, and cousin Grace 
were the kindest of all, for you talked to 
me personally about religion. Oh ! if 
pious people only knew how straight it 
goes to the heart of the young to invite 
them personally and individually to come 
to Jesus ! I heard many general invita- 
tions, hut I took them as things of course, 
and they passed over my hard heart like 
pebbles on the frozen surface of the lake ; 
but you took right hold of me and led me 
to the foot of the cross.” 

“ Dear child !” said Mrs. May, as she 
wiped away her quickly falling tears. 
“ But if we were the happy instruments 
of bringing you there, it was his love and 
tender compassion that constrained you 
to come, and to him be all the glory. 
Yet, Elbe, if you experienced not the 


34 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


care of a tender and pious mother, you 
have the happiness of knowing that she 
did care for you, and in your unconscious 
infancy devoted you to the Lord. Many 
times has she told me of this ; and when 
her feeble voice was almost lost in death, 
she laid her trembling hand upon your 
forehead, and looked up, as if she im- 
plored the blessing of a covenant God 
upon her fatherless babe, soon to be mo- 
therless also.” 

“ They had told me of this,” said Ellen, 
“ and I never forgot it. It seemed as if 
that gentle hand was ever laid upon my 
head. I felt it when I tried the round 
of worldly pleasures, and it sunk like 
lead upon my heart. I felt it leading me 
back again when 1 went astray; and 
though I am often wayward and erring, 
yet I bless God for that soft hand 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 35 

which was laid in dying love upon my 
infant head.” 

“ It is indeed a great blessing to have 
pious parents/’ said Mrs. May ; “ and a 
mother, being more especially the nurse 
and companion of the child, exerts an in- 
fluence which is not lost when it is called 
forth into the strife and toil of the busy 
world. Where should we look for the 
commencement of that life of faith shown 
forth in the bright examples of the pro- 
phet Samuel, the evangelist Timothy, 
the pious Augustin, or the gifted Dodd- 
ridge and Newton, if we do not trace it 
to a mother’s prayers and a mother’s 
labours ?” 

“ And where shall I find a better les- 
son on a missionary spirit than is given 
me by my aunt May?” said Ellen, as 
some hours after she left the interesting 


36 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


group of mother and children, and went 
to seek the retirement of her own room ; 
“it is true Christian love that prompts her 
to the work ; and patience and self-denial 
are in full exercise.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 


37 


CHAPTER III. 

In the afternoon Mrs. May, with Ellen 
and the three little girls, set out on their 
walk, accompanied by Martha, the nurse, 
and her lively young charge. Mary and 
Emma had both promised to take turns 
in helping Martha draw the little basket 
carriage, but they had so many races to 
run with “ cousin Ellie,” and so many 
objects to draw their attention, that they 
had accomplished more than half the dis- 
tance before they recollected their bargain. 
Springing up from the green bank, where 
they had thrown themselves to gather 
moss and painted cups from the edge of 
the brook, they turned back to meet the 
4 


38 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


more quiet members of the party, whom 
they had left far behind. 

Mary gained the race first, with bonnet 
only detained by the ribbons which clung 
to her neck ; and her cousin with little 
Emma, finding the victory decided, deter- 
mined to remain where they were. 

“ See, cousin Elbe, I have found some 
late violets for mamma,” said the child, 
“and a beautiful blue flower here all 
shaded with green leaves. Can you tell 
me what it is called, cousin ?” 

“ Yes,” said Ellen, “ but I think it is 
late too, perhaps from having been cov- 
ered up and sheltered, for it is generally 
found in the early spring. It is called 
Homtonia cerulea, Emmy; but if you find 
that too hard a name, it has another more 
common one — Innocence.” 

“Oh, thank you, that is very much 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 


39 


prettier. I shall always remember it by 
that name. Mamma says we must learn 
lessons from the flowers. These remind 
me of the hymn I learned this morning. 
Would you like to hear me say it, cousin 
Ellie ?” 

“Yes, dear,” said her cousin, “I 
should indeed;” and modestly casting 
down her eyes, lovely little Emma May 
repeated those simple and touching lines : 

“ The flowers of the field, 

That quickly fade away, 

May well to us a lesson yield, 

Who die as soon as they. 

Just like an early rose, 

I’ve seen an infant bloom ; 

But death perhaps before it blows, 

Will sweep it to the tomb. 

Then let us think on death, 

While we are young and gay ; 

For God who gave our life and breath, 

Can take them soon away.” 


40 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


As the little party proceeded on their 
way, the brook gradually widened into a 
considerable stream, and the noisy clacking 
of the great mill wheel was heard long 
before they gained a view of the building. 
It was quite a picturesque old mill, and 
had originally been planned to have 
flyers to catch the wind, but they were 
either broken away or had never been 
added, and the belfry-looking appendage 
on the summit, which was designed to 
fasten them to, was decayed, and over- 
grown with large patches of green moss. 
The low door was wide open, but the fact 
that no person was visible within or with- 
out, seemed to add a mysterious charm to 
the ruined building, as if its machinery 
moved on with its monotonous hum 
without human agency. 

Ellen stopped, and clapped her hands 
in ecstasy. 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 41 

“There is the dear old mill, at last,” 
she said. “How often I have pictured 
it in my dreams, and sketched it in my 
waking hours ! I wonder if the old 
miller is still alive. Dear old man ! his 
head was white as snow, and his step 
feeble with age, when I used to tease him 
by hiding behind the meal bags, while 
he went up and down, looking for me 
in every direction.” 

“Yes,” said her aunt. “Old Roger 
Gray is still living, but he is not able 
now to attend to the mill. His son lives 
with him and does the work, and there 
are several little children now to play 
bo-peep with the grandfather when he 
totters down to his old favourite place.” 

The cottage of Mrs. Ellison was just 
in sight of the mill, and was, as Ellen 
had said, quite a romantic little spot. 

4 * 


42 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


The house was almost covered up with 
trees ; and a charming water-fall formed 
by the rushing of the brook over some 
rough ledges of rocks, made music to the 
half frightened birds, as they stooped to 
dip their bills in its white foam. A rude 
little bridge, thrown, directly over the 
torrent, led to the house. 

“ Is not that rather a dangerous neigh- 
bourhood for one who is without sight?” 
said Ellen, as they stopped to admire the 
mimic cascade. “It makes even me a 
little giddy to cross it with that rushing 
stream so very near.” 

“You will see when you know our 
Ruth,” returned Mrs. May. “ She has 
invisible guardians to keep her in the 
straight and narrow path both really and 
figuratively, I think. And for the rest, 
there are so many that love Ruth and 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 


43 


desire her company, that she seldom 
wanders forth alone.” 

But, to their great disappointment, 
Ruth was not at home. “ This was the 
afternoon of the little missionary society 
which Ruth had formed of the young girls 
in the neighbourhood, her grandmother 
said, “and the school-house being vacant 
on Saturday afternoon, they had chosen 
that for their meeting.” 

Mrs. Ellison was a venerable old lady, 
whose silver locks had been frosted by 
many winters. She did not recognize 
in the tall, graceful young lady who was 
presented to her, the blooming little 
Ellen of former years, but she received 
her as well as the rest of her visitors 
with great pleasure. Although their 
number was not small, she managed their 
reception without much bustle ; and was 


44 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


not annoyed when the lively children, 
unfatigued with their walk, preferred a 
run in the beautiful flower garden in front 
of the house to a quiet seat within it. 

“If Ruth were here she would be 
delighted,” said the old lady, reseating 
herself in the high-backed rocking-chair, 
from which she had risen to receive 
her guests ; “and she could tell them 
many more things about the bees and 
flowers than I can. She sits and studies 
them for hours sometimes, as if she were 
reading a book.” 

“ Does she never seem to be sad that she 
cannot see them ?” said Ellen. “ I should 
think she would like to know how they 
look, and what colours they have.” 

“As to the colours, she knows them 
apart just as well as you or I would, my 
dear. The good God who has brought her 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 45 

into the world without the sense of sight, 
has made the other senses so delicate 
and acute in feeling, that her loss is 
made up to her by the greater capacity 
of the rest; and after she has once been 
made acquainted with the shape and ap- 
pearance of any substance, she knows it 
again by the touch just as you would 
by looking at it. Her friend and com- 
panion, Lucy Evans, who has been with 
and loved my Ruth from early childhood, 
seems as if she performs the business 
of introduction to her when she describes 
and names the flowers ; and then my dear 
child draws her little delicate fingers over 
them, and commits them to memory like 
a lesson. She says also that although 
she cannot see the flowers she loves, yet 
their fragrant smell, and the balmy air 
that touches her forehead, are blessings 


46 


BLIND BOTH, OB 


to her; and she receives them as gifts 
from that bountiful Father, who has been 
so kind to her in her affliction.” 

“But she cannot always be out among 
the flowers, neither are the skies always 
fair; and how then does the time pass 
with your dear grandchild?” said Mrs. 
May, who, although she was intimately 
acquainted with the habits of Ruth, 
wished to draw her aged relative out on 
the subject for the benefit of her young 
companion. 

“ Oh, Ruth is never at a loss for 
employment,” resumed Mrs. Ellison. 
“ When not engaged in more active work, 
she has her needle-work or knitting, and 
then her books take up. a great deal of 
her time.” 

“ Books !” exclaimed Ellen. “ Oh, yes, 
you mean those with raised letters. I 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 


47 


have seen specimens of them sometimes, 
but I should like very much to see any 
one reading in that strange way.” 

“ She reads them with her fingers,” said 
Mrs. Ellison, “just as rapidly as you 
would follow the letters with your eyes. 
How thankful we ought to be that God 
has put it into the hearts of benevolent 
individuals to provide such a mode of in- 
struction for those who would otherwise 
be so helpless! Ruth has also learned 
many other ways of improving her time, 
which she applies to good purposes; for 
my dear child seems anxious to do all 
she can for the promotion of the Redeem- 
er’s kingdom. A part of her work is al- 
ways laid by for sale, and the money, 
which is given for them by those who are 
curious in such matters, is kept in her 
missionary box, and its contents scrupu- 


48 BLIND RUTH, OR 

lously devoted to the cause so dear to her 
heart.” 

Mrs. Ellison, at her visitors’ request, 
exhibited some specimens of Ruth’s in- 
dustry, such as baskets, mats, tidies, &c., 
and the little box was made heavier by 
the generous purchases of Ellen, who was 
delighted with the work. They then fol- 
lowed the children to the garden; the old 
lady first leaving orders with her ancient 
domestic Jenny to prepare some of her 
delicious bread and honey, together with 
fruit and cream, for the entertainment of 
her young friends on their return. 

“ That is Ruth’s hive,” said Mrs. Elli- 
son, pointing to one that stood a little 
apart on the stand appropriated to her 
bees; “but she calls it her missionary 
hive, and the produce is applied to the 
same purpose as the rest of her little 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 49 

possessions. She also has her own por- 
tion of the garden ; and finding that the 
ladies of the neighbouring village set 
much value on cut flowers, she arranges 
them with considerable taste, and thus 
adds another mite to the Lord’s treasury. 
But you should see my Ruth, dear miss 
Ellen, and then I am sure you would 
love her. Why not extend your walk, 
and visit her little missionary society ?” 

“ I assure you we should do so with 
pleasure,” replied Ellen, “ if we were not 
afraid of being in the way.” 

“ Oh, there is no danger of that,” said 
the good woman. “ Ruth has such an 
humble, gentle spirit, that she seldom 
appears affected by circumstances that 
would annoy others. Besides I could 
scarcely imagine her dear Mrs. May to be 
otherwise than welcome, whenever she 
could be so happy as to meet with her.” 


50 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


It was therefore arranged that, after 
partaking of Mrs. Ellison’s tempting re- 
past, the children should return home 
with Martha; while Mrs. May and Ellen 
continued their walk in the direction of 
the school-house. 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 


51 


CHAPTER IV. 

This, like most of the buildings in the 
vicinity, had that venerable appearance, 
which, however it may detract from real 
comfort, affords many charms to the ad- 
mirers of the picturesque. It was built 
of rough hewn logs, from between which 
the plaster chinking had in many places 
decayed and fallen out; while the im- 
mense stone chimney that had its solid 
foundation even with the base of the 
building, loomed up on one side like an 
ancient buttress designed to strengthen 
and support the whole structure. Before 
the door a beautiful elm waved low its 
feathery branches, as if it loved to listen 
to the merry voices of the little children, 


52 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


as, gathering around its knotted trunk, 
they arranged their little playhouses with 
bits of painted china and acorn cups. 
But the busy hum of the week’s labour 
or pastime was stilled ; and the trembling 
leaves kept time instead to the music of 
devout young heai’ts, as on the clear calm 
summer air rung out those thrilling lines : 

“ From Greenland’s icy mountains,” &c. 

Mrs. May and Ellen paused until the 
last tones of the beautiful hymn had 
floated far away into the distance; and 
then moving forward to the open door 
hastened to present themselves to the 
youthful company. This consisted of an 
interesting group of girls, their ages ap- 
parently varying from twelve to sixteen ; 
while their fair and favourite Ruth, whom 
they all seemed to love and admire, was 
seated in the midst of them. The appear- 


HOAV MAY I DO GOOD? 53 

ance of this lovely young person seemed to 
Ellen Dale remarkably sweet and attrac- 
tive. Although not regularly beautiful, 
her features had that pure and innocent 
expression, which is seldom exhibited 
except in very young children ; and the 
almost transparent delicacy of her com- 
plexion affected the beholder with a sense 
of her extreme fragility : as if upon the 
fair young brow was written the sentence 
that dooms all earthly treasures, “ Pass- 
ing away.” Amid the bright smiles and 
glances that went round the happy circle, 
those eyes alone were veiled; and yet 
their want of intelligence was almost 
made up by the quick mobility of the 
beautiful mouth, as its expression varied 
with every change of feeling. 

Her meeting with Mrs. May was that 
of a fondly beloved child and its tender 
5 * 


54 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


parent; and when Ellen was named to 
her, she passed her small fingers carefully 
over her hair and features, as if to become 
acquainted with her ; and then taking both 
her hands in hers, pressed them to her 
forehead and lips. Ellen impulsively re- 
sponded by clasping the sweet young 
creature in her arms, and returning with 
ardour the caresses she had received. 

After they were all seated, and had 
examined the different articles of fancy 
work, which engaged the attention of the 
young people, Mrs. May requested that 
they would proceed in every particular 
in the same manner they would have 
done had she not been present. 

“ We did not design to interfere with 
your arrangements in any way,” she said ; 
“ so if we find you are all going to be 
silent, rve shall think ourselves to be in- 
truders, and must hasten away.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 55 

“ Oh ! no, no ! dear Mrs. May,” plead 
Ruth, “ we are all so glad to have you 
come. If it will give you any pleasure, 
we will go on with our conversation as 
we planned at first to do. When we 
commenced our little society, we thought 
it would be pleasant if each one would 
try to remember something to tell about 
the condition of the heathen, or the pro- 
mises concerning them in the Bible. This 
we thought would be more profitable, 
than to enter into the discussion of our 
own or our neighbours’ affairs, which 
would otherwise be the case.” 

“ A very admirable arrangement !” said 
Mrs. May. “I wish your example might 
be followed by other societies which have 
the same great object in view. But who 
is to begin ?” “ 0 Ruth,” “ Ruth,” and 

“ dear Ruth,” cried many young voices ; 


56 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


and so after a few minutes’ thought, the 
blind girl commenced in sweet low tones 
the following little narrative : 

“ It may be on account of my being 
blind myself, and so knowing how sad it 
must be for those who have enjoyed the 
blessing of sight to be deprived of it, that 
I took such a great interest in a little 
story which was read to me the other day. 
I cannot remember the very words, but 
I will tell you in my own. Once a little 
boy, who belonged to a tribe in South 
Africa, was very sick. Now when we 
are ill, our parents and dear friends are 
so kind, and do everything they can for 
our relief. They give us medicine and 
nice food if we are able to take it ; and 
if we grow worse, how sad they are for 
fear they shall have to part with their 
beloved children ! But among the poor 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 57 

heathen these sweet affections are never 
known. So poor Umatanda, the little 
sick boy, instead of being well taken 
care of, was carried by his cruel parents 
away off into the bushes, and left for the 
tigers and other beasts of prey to come 
and devour him. Oh ! how dreadfully 
the poor boy must have felt ! To be left 
there day after day, with his poor aching 
head and body growing weaker and 
weaker ; and instead of expecting every 
moment to hear the soft footsteps of a 
loving mother coming to soothe his pain, 
to be listening in terror for the stealthy 
approach of the savage beasts of the 
forest ! Then to add to the horrors of 
his situation, the dreadful insects of that 
warm country eat out his eyes, while his 
hands were too weak, I suppose, to defend 
them ! But the good God had mercy on 


58 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


the poor sick blind boy. Some kind 
missionaries found him, and took him to 
their home. They healed his sick body ; 
and, though he could no more see the 
light of day, God opened the eyes of his 
mind to see the evil of sin, and showed 
him the way of salvation by Jesus. And 
so Umatanda had reason to bless God 
that he was not left with his natural 
sight to grope in heathen darkness, but 
was brought so early to the knowledge 
of the Saviour. There are many other 
heathen customs that are very dreadful 
and unnatural ; do you remember any 
you can tell us about, Lizzie dear ?” said 
Ruth, laying her hand affectionately 
upon that of a little girl who sat by her. 

Lizzie blushed very much when she 
found herself called on next; and at first 
she could scarcely raise her voice so as 


• HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 59 

to be heard ; while her heart beat so fast 
and thick it was quite painful. But as 
she went on she gathered a little courage, 
and told a very interesting story about a 
poor Hindoo woman, who was obliged to 
leave her baby in the lonely forest, in 
obedience to its cruel father, who had 
been told that he must appease the gods 
by the offering. When she was about to 
place it in its leafy cradle,” said Lizzie, 
“ the poor little baby began to cry, and 
stretch out its arms to its distressed mo- 
ther. Then she laid it down, but hearing 
its voice, turned, and would have gone 
back, only she heard the stern voice of 
her husband calling her, and she had to 
follow.” 

“Poor little thing!” said one of the 
girls, “ and was it really left to starve, 
Lizzie ?” 


60 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


“It would have been,” she answered, 
“only God had determined otherwise. 
One of the missionaries who was travel- 
ling in that place, though the parents did 
not see him, looked on and saw the whole 
proceeding; and as soon as the woman 
had gone, he went and took the little 
baby away, and brought it where it could 
be well taken care of. And so it lived, 
and became one of the missionaries’ dear 
little adopted children.” 

“ Oh !” said Ruth, “ does not that make 
you think of that beautiful text in Isaiah, 
‘ Can a woman forget her sucking child, 
that she should not have compassion on 
the son of her womb ? yea, they may 
forget, yet will I not forget thee ?’ ” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. May, “human love 
is far inferior to that of the Supreme 
Being, for his is infinite and unchangea- 


HOW MAT I DO GOOD ? 61 

ble. But Lizzie’s little story shows that 
in its natural unrenewed state the heart 
is desperately wicked. The heathen are 
indeed without natural affections, im- 
placable, unmerciful. Not only do they 
leave their children in solitary places to 
be devoured, but they cast them into the 
rivers and streams which they call gods ; 
and they are almost taken by enormous 
crocodiles out of their parents’ arms. Do 
you know, Lucy,” she added, turning to 
the pensive-looking companion of Ruth, 
who sat beside her, “ why Christian 
females should do all they can for the 
good of the heathen ?” 

“ Because the gospel has done so much 
for us, I suppose,” said Lucy, in a very 
low voice. 

“Yes,” replied Mrs. May, “in heathen 

lands females are in the deepest degra- 
6 


62 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


dation. They are not only treated like 
beasts of burden, but in many instances 
experience worse calamities. Kept in 
the blindest ignorance, they are taught 
not only that it is right to destroy their 
helpless female offspring, but in many 
instances do it from choice, that their 
daughters may escape the hapless lot of 
their mothers. And often their miserable 
existence is dreadfully terminated by 
their being burnt alive with the dead 
bodies of their husbands.” 

“ But is not that custom almost entirely 
abolished, dear Mrs. May ?” asked Ruth. 

“ I believe it is in the more enlight- 
ened parts, as well as the general prac- 
tice of infanticide. Wherever the gospel 
is preached, darkness flies before it. 
And to send this blessed gospel through 
all lands, you, my dear girls, are this 
afternoon lending your assistance.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 63 

“It is very little we can do,” said 
blind Ruth, “but I hope our offerings 
will do good, even if they are small. I 
remember once hearing about a dear little 
girl, who was kept by ill health from 
taking part with her brothers and sisters 
in their walks and employments. I sup- 
pose she wished to do good, for when 
they were gathering berries to sell, she 
asked them to pull branches for her and 
bring them where she sat, and she 
stripped off the fruit. And so in that slow 
way she gathered enough to sell, and gave 
the few pennies she received to the mis- 
sionary fund.” 

“That reminds me of something an- 
other little girl did,” said one of the 
company who had not before spoken. 
“It was in England, in a place and at 
a season that water was scarce. The 


64 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


little girl caught rain water, and sold it 
to the women who made their living by 
washing. She earned nearly five dollars 
in this way, and gave it to the missionary 
cause, and when she was asked in what 
way she would have it put down among 
the other donations, she said, “Call it 
rain from heaven, if you please.” 

“Such bright rain drops as that,” said 
Mrs. May, “will fertilize the earth, and 
cause it to bud and blossom, and bring 
forth fruit to the glory of God.” 

Several others now took courage to 
mention facts concerning the darkness of 
the heathen world, and the efforts that 
had been made for the spread of the 
gospel; and then, as the afternoon was 
quite far advanced, their little presiding 
genius Ruth proposed that they should 
put by their work, and either read from 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 65 

their Bibles or repeat from memory some 
of the promises which God has made to 
bring in the fulness of the Gentiles. 

“You must begin then, Ruth,” said 
bright eyed little Kate, who was the 
youngest of the party. “I don’t think 
there is one of us knows the Bible as 
well as you do.” 

“I should be sorry to think so, dear 
Katie,” said the gentle Ruth, “ but if I 
were to begin, I should bring forward my 
favourite text ; ‘ God so loved the world 
that he gave his only begotten Son, that 
whosoever believeth in him should not 
perish but have everlasting life.’ John 
iii. 16. However, I think in the psalms 
and prophets there are others having a 
more direct bearing on the subject.” 

The young people then took turns 
to read or repeat many verses from scrip- 
6 * 


66 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


ture ; and by the direction of Ruth and 
her friend Mrs. May, they were so ar- 
ranged as to be brought in according to 
the following order : 

“ Ask of me, and I shall give thee the 
heathen for thine inheritance, and the 
uttermost parts of the earth for thy pos- 
session.” Ps. ii. 8. 

“ thou hast made me the head of 

the heathen : a people whom I have not 
known shall serve me.” Ps. xviii. 43. 

“All the ends of the world shall re- 
member and turn unto the Lord : and 
all the kindreds of the nations shall 
worship before thee.” Ps. xxii. 27. 

“Princes shall come out of Egypt; 
Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her 
hands unto God.” Ps. lxviii. 31. 

“ He shall have dominion also from sea 
to sea, and from the river unto the ends 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 


67 


of the earth.” “ His Dame shall endure 
for ever : his name shall be continued as 
long as the sun : and men shall be blessed 
in him; all nations shall call him blessed.” 
Ps. lxxii. 8. 17. 

“ And it shall come to pass in the last 
days, that the mountain of the Lord’s 
house shall be established in the top of 
the mountains, and shall be exalted above 
the hills, and all nations shall flow unto 
it.” Is. ii. 2. 

“ They shall not hurt nor destroy in 
all my holy mountain; for the earth 
shall be full of the knowledge of the 
Lord, as the waters cover the sea.” Is. 
xi. 9. 

“ Fear not; for 1 am with thee : I will 
bring thy seed from the east, and gather 
thee from the west. I will say to the 
north, Give up ; and to the south, Keep 


68 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


not back ; bring my sons from far, and 
my daughters from the ends of the earth.” 
Is. xliii. 5, 6. 

“ And the Gentiles shall come to thy 
light, and kings to the brightness of thy 
rising, &c.” Is. lx. 3. 

“For the earth shall be filled with the 
knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as 
the waters cover the sea.” Hab. ii. 14. 

“ And the Lord shall be King over all 
the earth : in that day shall there be one 
Lord, and his name one.” Zech. xiv. 9. 

“ And they shall come from the east, 
and from the west, and from the north, 
and from the south, and shall sit down 
in the kingdom of God.” Luke xiii. 29. 

Afterwards Mrs. May read to them 
the thirty-fifth chapter of Isaiah ; and 
they then all joined in that noble ascrip- 
tion to the Lamb that was slain, which is 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 69 

contained in the apocalyptic vision of the 
beloved John. “And they sung a new 
song, saying, Thou art worthy to take 
the book, and to open the seals thereof : 
for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us 
to God by thy blood out of every kind- 
red, and tongue, and people, and nation.” 
Rev. v. 9. 


70 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


CHAPTER V. 

“ If you will come with us to the Sab- 
bath-school,” said Mrs. May to Ellen, as 
they walked to church on the morning 
after their visit to the youthful mission- 
ary society, “you will see something more 
of the efforts made by our friend blind 
Ruth to do good as she has opportunity. 
In addition to her other exertions in the 
blessed cause, she fulfils the duties of a 
faithful Sabbath-school teacher.” 

“ Then 1 shall have to blush more for 
myself than I did yesterday, aunt May ; 
for although I have always admired and 
loved the Sabbath-school, I have never 
engaged in it myself.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 71 

“And why, may I ask you, Ellie ?” 

“ Oh, for one reason I have led such a 
wandering life from one relation to 
another, that I was never settled down 
in any one place long enough to take an 
interest in such things. And now that 
I have a home, I am afraid if I begin I 
shall not be able to instruct the children 
aright, and may become tired of the work, 
as I have seen so many do.” 

“My dear child,” said Mrs. May, “the 
first great difficulty in the way of all 
such undertakings is a want of love for 
the work itself. But is it not a great one ? 
"When we consider how important it is 
that the tender minds of children should 
be early imbued with a knowledge of 
divine things, and trained for God, the 
effort becomes one of the greatest magni- 
tude. We know by the annals of crime. 


72 BLIND RUTH, OR 

that Sabbath influence and Sabbath in- 
struction have proved a check on the pro- 
gress of vice and immorality ; and that 
of the miserable inmates of our state 
prisons scarcely one in hundreds has been 
found to be a Sabbath-school pupil. 
Think also that in this delightful employ- 
ment you are imitating the example of 
Him, who when on earth took little child- 
ren in his arms, and blessed them, and 
said, ‘ Suffer the little children to come 
unto me.’ But another difficulty in the 
way of successfully teaching Sabbath- 
school, and one that discourages many a 
teacher after entering the work, is want 
of faith.” 

“ Indeed, dear aunt, I cannot see why.” 

“That is because you have never been 
a Sabbath-school teacher, my dear. Many 
engage in this employment from a love 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 73 

of novelty or change. Being therefore 
destitute of love for the souls under their 
care, they cannot be expected to have 
faith in God’s promises that He will own 
and bless his work. But even truly pious 
and faithful teachers often feel discoui’- 
aged when they find their success but 
small, and almost determine that they 
will no longer continue to labour in the 
barren soil. But if they had faith in 
God’s word, they would redouble their 
zeal and efforts. If they truly believed 
that God is waiting to bless, they would 
look to be blessed. It is because we are 
unbelieving that we are so slow in asking 
the fulfilment of promises. I hope, dear 
Elbe, when you become a Sabbath-school 
teacher, you will have love and faith, 
and then you may hope for a blessing.” 

“ So that will make up the three 
7 


74 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


Christian graces, dear aunt,” said Ellen, 
smiling; “but look ! there is blind Ruth 
before us with her young friend Lucy. 
Does she help her teach Sabbath-school, 
aunt May ?” 

“ No, Ellen. Strange as it may appear 
of one who has been so constantly a 
friend and companion of dear Ruth, and 
the daily, almost hourly witness of her 
earnest piety, Lucy has not yet become 
decided to be a Christian. But I think 
she is thoughtful, and yesterday I ob- 
served several times that there were tears 
in her eyes. She has a bright example 
in our dear Ruth, and is one of the mem- 
bers of her Sabbath-school class.” 

“Indeed!” said Ellen. “I should 
have supposed you would have given her 
a class of little children, rather than one 
composed of girls quite of the same age 
as herself.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 75 

“ There is where you are mistaken in 
two ways, Ellie. First, for doubting, as 
your words imply, the capacity of Ruth 
to teach those of a larger growth ; and 
secondly, for supposing, should such be 
the case, that inferior teaching is good 
enough for the little ones of the flock. I 
believe this is a common mistake, and 
that young and inexperienced teachers 
are most generally intrusted with the 
smaller classes, to instruct and interest 
whom you would confess to be a difficult 
undertaking, if you could be persuaded 
to try it. But where the young teacher 
is assisted or followed by one more ex- 
perienced, the difficulty is in some degree 
removed. The way Ruth became a 
Sabbath-school teacher was this. She 
with others of her age composed my class 
at a time when it became necessary for 


76 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


me to accept of another post of duty. 
Not readily finding a substitute as teacher, 
I proposed that they should still continue 
to meet and study the scriptures; and 
although Ruth did not accept the name 
of teacher, yet her accurate acquaintance 
with the Bible and its doctrines has 
gained her the position in reality; and 
she fulfils her duties with that gentle 
humility, which sweetly characterizes 
all her actions.” 

They had by this time arrived at the 
neat Gothic church, whose commodious 
basement afforded such ample conveni- 
ence for the Sabbath-school. The little 
groups that had been seen from a distance 
threading shady lanes, and crossing the 
green lots and woodland slopes, were 
seated in order in their classes, with the 
smiles just enough sobered on their sunny 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 77 

cheeks to suit the gravity of the place. 
At the sound of the superintendent’s bell 
they all arose, and with clear, tuneful 
voices joined to sing: 

“ There is a happy land, 

Far, far away 

and as the choral sounds floated by, they 
seemed to be the echo from that world of 
bliss, 

“ Where saints in glory stand, 

Bright, bright as day.” 

After the business of the school had 
commenced, Ellen seated herself by the 
class of the blind girl, in whose proceed- 
ings she had begun to take quite an ab- 
sorbing interest. 

With a sweet, earnest voice their 
youthful teacher mentioned, that the les- 
son on which they were to be engaged, 
though occupying a very small portion 

7 * 


78 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


of the word of God, was of the greatest 
importance, and demanded their most 
serious thoughts. “Will one of you 
please to read the words?” she said, 
turning to the rest of the scholars. 

Opening her Bible, a young girl read 
the similitude which our Saviour employs 
in comparing the kingdom of heaven with 
earthly things. 

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like 
unto a merchant-man, seeking goodly 
pearls ; who, when he had found one 
pearl of great price, went and sold all 
that he had, and bought it.” Matt. xiii. 
45 , 46 . 

After a slight pause, Ruth spoke again. 

“ We are to consider three things in 
this parable. First, the character of the 
person mentioned; then the precious ob- 
ject which he found ; and lastly, the sa- 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 79 

orifices which he made to obtain possession 
of it. Who was the man here spoken of?” 

“ A merchant or trader,” cried several 
voices. 

“What was his business ?” 

“ To obtain goodly pearls for the pur- 
pose of selling them again.” 

“ In the course of his search what did 
he find ?” 

“ A pearl of such rare value, that he 
considered all his worldly goods of no 
account, and consented to part with them 
all that he might obtain it.” 

“ Now, dear friends and companions,” 
said Ruth, “ this parable, like all others 
of our blessed Saviour’s, has a spiritual 
meaning, which we must endeavour to 
find out, so as to make it profitable to 
our own souls. How then do we resem- 
ble this merchant-man ?” 


so 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


“We are all trying after some worldly 
good,” said one. 

“ Yes,” answered Ruth, “ we are all 
seekers. Some are seeking for riches, 
some for honours, some for fame, and all 
alike for happiness. All men are saying, 
‘Who will show us any good?’ flow 
blessed is it when the one petition of the 
heart arises : ‘ Lord, lift thou up the 
light of thy countenance upon us.’ But 
in this earnest seeking of the world for 
earthly things, no toil is thought too 
great, no care too severe. The man of 
wealth will arise up early, and sit up 
late, and eat the bread of carefulness that 
he may add to his stores ; and the man 
of ambition has his brow furrowed with 
premature age. These are the perishing 
pearls of earth. But what do the scrip- 
tures tell us we must seek ?” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 81 

“ The salvation of our souls — an in- 
terest in Christ — true religion — ” replied 
several voices. 

“ Yes. It says, ‘ Seek first the king- 
dom of God, and his righteousness, and 
all these things shall be added to you.’ 
But we must not only seek, but strive — 
must agonise to enter the strait gate. 
‘ Casting aside every weight, and the 
sins that most easily beset us, we must 
press forward to the mark of the prize of 
the high calling in Christ Jesus.’ ‘ So 
run, that ye may obtain.’ Thus having 
received a knowledge of the pearl of great 
price, we must do all we can to obtain it. 
What is Christ said to be in the Bible ?” 

“ The chief among ten thousand, the 
one altogether lovely.” 

“ Then to be joined in everlasting love 
to him, to have him for our Friend and 


82 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


Redeemer, must be the one supreme ob- 
ject of our desires. In comparison with 
this all earthly pleasures should be as 
nothing, and we should be willing to give 
up all we have and are to him. How 
then shall we obtain the pearl of great 
price ?” 

“ By giving up our lives for his cause ?” 
asked a youthful voice. 

“We are not called on to do so in 
these days. Had we lived in the times 
of the martyrs, we might have been tried 
as they were. But even this would not 
have been enough, ‘ for though I give 
my body to be burned, and have not 
charity, or love, it profiteth me nothing,’ 
says the apostle.” 

“ We must give up all that we have 
of worldly goods,” suggested another. 

“ No — these things are not improper, 


HOW MAT I DO GOOD? 83 

if used aright, and to the glory of God. 
But we must not love them supremely. 
There is another thing God would have.” 

“We must give him our hearts.” 

“ Yes ; he says, ‘ My son, give me thy 
heart.’ That is, its affections, its pur- 
poses, its desires must be set on heavenly 
things. Now let us bring this lesson 
home to ourselves. What will we give 
for this pearl of great price ? Will we 
give our hearts to God now in our youth- 
ful days? Willi? Will you?” 

As the solemn question went round that 
little circle, various were the answers 
returned. Some replied only by tears ; 
others hoped with their young teacher 
that they had given their hearts to Christ; 
but when it came to the turn of Lucy 
Evans, she answered seriously and firmly 
-“I will.” 


84 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


The fair cheek of the blind girl 
flushed with emotion as she heard the 
decision of her friend. The unexpected 
reply sent a thrill of sudden joy through 
her frame ; and as her trembling fingers 
and quivering lips pressed those of her 
dear companion, she felt something of 
that heavenly delight which animates the 
angelic throng, when an heir of glory is 
born into the Redeemer’s kingdom. 

“You have made me very happy to 
day, dear Lucy,” said Ruth Ellison, as 
the two friends wandered in the calm 
Sabbath evening down by the rustic 
bridge and the bright torrent. “How 
have I longed for this decision ! Indeed, 
dear friend, I have sometimes felt as if 
I could willingly die, if but my death 
might be the means of leading you to 
God.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 85 

“I have been almost afraid to tell you, 
my Ruth,” said Lucy, as she passed her 
arms still closer around her friend, “ and 
even now I have no clear assurance that 
I am accepted in the Beloved. So much 
sin is mixed with all I do, that I some- 
times doubt if I have any grounds for 
hope at all.” 

“Dear Lucy, then are you just such a 
one as the Saviour invites. He says, ‘ 1 
came not to call the righteous, but sinners 
to repentance.’ ‘ The publican standing 
afar off would not so much as lift up his 
eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his 
breast, crying, God be merciful to me a 
sinner.’ You do not doubt the promises 
of God.” 

“No, for they are yea and amen.” 

“And has he not said, ‘ Seek ye my 

face,’ and ‘they that seek me early shall 
8 


86 BLIND RUTH, OR 

find me?’ ‘Come now and let us reason 
together, saith the Lord, though your sins 
he as scarlet, they shall be as white as 
snow; though they he red like crimson, 
they shall be as wool.’ ‘Let the wicked 
forsake his way, and the unrighteous man 
his thoughts; and let him return unto 
the Lord, and he will have mercy upon 
him, and to our God, and he will abun- 
dantly pardon.’ And you cannot doubt 
that he is able to save.” 

“He is able to save unto the utter- 
most all that come unto God by him.” 

“Then he is willing, and able, and 
just such a Saviour as you need. His 
grace is sufficient for you; for he first 
wills you to be his, and then inclines you 
to come. So if you truly repent of your 
sins, and, believing in the Lord Jesus 
Christ as an all-atoning Saviour, desire 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 87 

to live to his glory, he will not cast you 
off.” 

“Well, dear Ruth,” said Lucy, brush- 
ing away some bright tear drops, “ I 
cannot yet see my way through the dark 
cloud, but I know there is a silver 
lining to it. And though fearing and 
doubting, I trust to be able to say with 
queen Esther, ‘I will go in unto the king, 
and if I perish, I perish.’” 

Then pacing back and forth in the 
soft moonlight, the two fair young girls 
sung sweetly those plaintive lines : 

Come, humble sinner, in whose heart, 

A thousand thoughts revolve ; 

Come, with your guilt and fear opprest, 

And make this last resolve : 

I’ll go to Jesus, though my sin 
Hath like a mountain rose ; 

I know his courts, I’ll enter in, 

Whatever may oppose. 


88 BLIND RUTH, OR 

I’ll to the gracious King approach, 
Whose sceptre pardon gives ; 

Perhaps he may command my touch, 
And then the suppliant lives. 

Prostrate I’ll lie before his throne 
And there my guilt confess, 

I’ll tell him I’m a wretch undone, 
Without his sovereign grace. 

Perhaps he will admit my plea, 
Perhaps will hear my prayer; 

But, if I perish, I will pray, 

And perish only there. 

I can but perish if I go, 

I am resolved to try : 

For if I stay away I know 
I must for ever die. 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 


89 


CHAPTER VI. 

More than a year passed by before 
Ellen Dale bad an opportunity to revisit 
the pleasant home of her aunt May. 
During this time, Mrs. May heard from 
various sources of the ardent interest which 
her young relative had begun to take in 
the various objects of Christian benevolence ; 
and she prepared to welcome her as no 
longer a babe in divine things, but one 
who was rapidly attaining the full stature 
of spiritual maturity. 

It was on the afternoon after her arri- 
val, when, after making many inquiries 
about friends and neighbours, Ellen sud- 
denly exclaimed, 

“ But our dear blind Ruth, aunt May 
8 * 


90 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


— you have told me nothing about her 
yet. It has been in my mind several 
times to ask for her, but some one else 
always came in her place.” 

A shade passed over Mrs. May’s quiet 
features. 

“ Our dear Ruth — ” she said at last ; 
“Yes — I may say it is well with her; 
for she is drawing nearer and still nearer 
to her heavenly home.” 

“Indeed!” said Ellen, in a tone of con- 
cern. “ Has she long been ill ?” 

“She has never been what is called 
seriously ill; but her strength has seemed 
gradually to fail, and without visible ail- 
ment the slender silver cord of life is 
gently breaking away. This morning I 
received a pressing message from her, 
with an intimation that not only her days 
out her hours are numbered.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 91 

“ So soon !” exclaimed Ellen, “ then 
we must go at once — that is, if you will 
permit me to accompany you. Indeed — 
indeed, dear aunt, I do not now feel that 
dread I once had of seeing the immortal 
spirit putting off its mortality.” 

“ There is nothing to dread, dear Ellie,” 
said her aunt. “Although we must al- 
ways feel a solemn awe in the presence 
of such scenes, yet the departure of our 
dear Ruth is one so peaceful and quiet, 
that we have no reason to shrink from the 
interview.” 

Ellen did, however, feel a weight upon 
her spirits during their walk, which kept 
her unusually silent and thoughtful. 
Although “ the melancholy days had 
come, the saddest of the year,” yet under 
any other circumstances she would have 
been delighted with the rich colours of 


92 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


the forest scenery; and have occupied 
herself with gathering the scarlet bush- 
berries, or searching after the glossy 
brown nuts that lay hidden beneath. 
But as it was, she went on through the 
crisp and rustling leaves with a burdened 
heart, feeling as if the perishing things 
around her told a tale of death ; and that 
the soft south wind, as it wailed through 
the trees, sung a requiem to the parting 
spirit of the gentle girl, who had so often 
loved to feel its sweet breath. 

“ Look above, Ellie,” said Mrs. May, 
who could not but notice the pensive looks 
of her young companion. “Look up to 
the heavenly hills, from whence cometh 
the Deliverer. If the decaying objects 
around us speak of the mortality of the 
body, the clear blue heavens above tell 
us of the soul’s immortality — for bound- 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 


93 


less as they are in extent are the hopes 
of the Christian. “The grass withereth, 
the flower fadeth, but the word of our 
God shall stand for ever.” 

When they reached the cottage, the 
aged grandmother came forward to meet 
them, and a silent greeting was given and 
received. But this lasted not long, for 
she loved too well to speak of her darling, 
and her burdened heart longed to vent 
itself in words. 

“ Our dear Ruth is almost home,” she 
said, “and I shall soon be left alone. I 
had not thought it would be thus, that 
the withered branch should remain, while 
the sweet flower is nipped in the very 
bud. But it is the Lord, let him do 
what seemeth him good.” 

“ And it is for wise purposes he wills 
it,” replied her friend. “In covenant 


94 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


love he is about taking your dear child 
from a world of sin and sorrow into his 
bright paradise above. Let us not dwell 
too much on the state of the perishing 
body. Think of the mansions of eternal 
bliss prepared for those who love God — 
think of the unspeakable weight of glory 
— think of that happy moment when the 
freed spirit, unfettered by its house of 
clay, shall find itself for ever with the 
Lord.” 

Just then a few soft, low tones were 
heard of a plaintive melody; and Mrs. 
Ellison, rising and opening a wainscotted 
door, ushered her friends at once into the 
chamber of death. Ellen long remem- 
bered that impressive scene. The dying 
girl had been placed near an open window, 
through which the soft air came laden 
with the fragrant breath of cedar and 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 95 

pine that wooded the nearer hills. The 
smoky atmosphere hung around those in 
the distance, but their magnificent foliage 
was painted with the brightest of colours 
against the misty clouds, and formed a 
beautiful picture. 

The countenance of Ruth was very 
sweet and placid. She was partly sup- 
ported by pillows, partly reclining in the 
arms of Lucy, whose pale and sorrowful 
brow was drooped until it touched the 
transparent cheek and soft dark locks of 
her dying friend. Closely around her 
gathered a group of her young compan- 
ions; “sorrowing most of all for the words 
that had been spoken, that they should 
see her face no more.” It was at her re- 
quest that they had joined in one of her 
favourite hymns; and now with trembling 
voices they sung again : 


96 


BLIND RUTH, OR 

“ Eock of ages, cleft for me, 

Let me hide myself in thee : 

Let the water and the blood, 

From thy wounded side that flowed, 
Be of sin the double cure ; 

Cleanse me from its guilt and power. 

Not the labour of my hands 
Can fulfil the law’s demands ; 

Could my zeal no respite know, 

Could my tears for ever &ow, 

All for sin could not atone ; 

Thou must save, and thou alone. 

Nothing in my hand I bring, 

Simply to thy cross I cling ; 

Naked, come to thee for dress, 
Helpless, look to thee for grace ; 

Vile, I to the fountain fly, 

Wash me, Saviour, or I die. 

While I draw this fleeting breath, 
When my heart-strings break in death, 
When I soar to worlds unknown, 

See thee on thy judgment-throne, 

Rock of ages, cleft for me, 

Let me hide myself in thee.” 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD? 


97 


Mingling with theirs, Ruth caught the 
tones of a beloved and longed-for voice ; 
and stretched out her arms with an im- 
pulsive gesture to welcome her dear Mrs. 
May. 

“You have come to see your Ruth 
once again, dear friend — to go with her 
down into the shady valley.” 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. May, quietly taking 
the place which Lucy had relinquished 
on her entrance; “yes, dearest, to go with 
you as far as it is permitted to mortal on 
this side of eternity. But, Ruth, there 
is One who will go with you to the end ; 
who has suffered the bitterness of death 
for you, and taken away its sting.” 

“ 0 yes,” said Ruth, sweetly smiling, 
“ and he is with me. I feel his sensible 
presence. His rod and his staff, they 

comfort me.” 

9 


98 


BLIND RUTH, OR 


“And this 'dark valley through which 
you are passing — ” 

“It is not dark — there is only the 
shadow of death. My Redeemer for ever 
took away the reality, when he conquered 
this last foe. And now, though the 
cold waves are bitter to my taste, I have 
glimpses of the heavenly shores beyond. 
Dear friend, 1 shall soon see the King in 
his beauty, and praise him for ever and 
ever.” 

There was a sudden pause, for the 
dying girl was exhausted, and the shades 
of death were fast stealing over the 
beautiful features. The deep and solemn 
silence was only interrupted by the 
laboured breathing of the departing, and 
the tokens of grief that could not be 
withheld by those who loved her. It 
seemed to disturb the passing spirit. She 


HOW MAY I DO GOOD ? 99 

made an uneasy motion, and stretched 
out her hands to clasp those that were 
pressing near her. 

“Dear grandmother — dear Lucy — dear 
friends — do not weep for your Ruth. 
She is happy — she is going to the Sa- 
viour. Live close to him — live to his 
glory.” 

A moment after she spoke again. 
“Sing to me once more — sing of Jesus 
— e Jesus, I love thy charming name’ — ” 
They sang : — 

“ Jesus, I love thy charming name, 

’Tis music to my ear, 

Fain would I sound it out so loud, 

That earth and heaven might hear.” 

As they sung the last lines — 

“ I’ll speak the honours of thy name, 

With my last labouring breath ; 

Then speechless clasp thee in my arms 
The antidote of death — ” 


100 


BLIND RUTH. 


Mrs. May felt the slight weight that 
she held become heavier, a dying radi- 
ance lingered on the pallid features, and 
the cold lips parted with a sudden smile. 
Then all who were present veiled their 
faces in silent awe ; for they knew when 
next they gazed on the countenance of 
their friend, the soul that animated it 
would be with the angels. 

“ Happy Ruth!” said Mrs. May, when 
the solemn scene was over; and gently 
laying down the inanimate form, she 
pressed her lips to the pale forehead. 
“Happy Ruth! in life and death the 
Lord’s ! Sweet spirit ! thy mission on earth 
is ended, and the hand that writes this 
memorial of thy blessed life and death, 
may add to it the commendation of thy 
Master and mine, — ‘ She hath done what 
she could.’” 










































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